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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962323">Compatible</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation'>Multifandom_damnation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Gifted (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Bipolar Disorder, Burns, Dorks in Love, F/M, Feel-good, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loss of Control, Manic Episode, Metalbending &amp; Metalbenders, Minor Andy Strucker/Lorna Dane friendship, Minor Injuries, Mutant Powers, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Protective John Proudstar, Self-Destruction, Team Dynamics, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:33:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Through their ups and downs, the destruction of the Underground, the loss of friends and loved ones and new additions to their little rag-tag family of fuck-ups and mutants, it was safe to say that Lorna and Marcos were just compatible, and they always would be in the end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorna Dane/Marcos Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Compatible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was the first time I ever used the 'I blame Tumblr' tag!! But it's true, though maybe not what the tag was intended for. This fic was inspired by this post on Tumblr: https://multifandom-damnation.tumblr.com/post/618405978536312832 and I just really needed to figure out how this occurred? Like, he says that he's burnt her before, so how did they come to the conclusion that she didn't care? It must have happened a couple of times then, right? And if he used his powers on her, then she probably used her powers on him? Like that time when Esme planted that nightmare in Lorna's head, and the cabinet next to Marcos crumbled to nothing while they slept. I just... really needed to write a fic about how much of a team they are?? Because, like they're totally soul mates?? I just really needed to get this off my chest.</p><p>I took a psychology course for a lot of years in high school, and I know some about bipolar disorder and I did a lot of research, but I don't actually know people with the disorder, but I just tried to be sensitive to the topic and based it off of the comments we get about it in the show, so I hope I didn't go too overboard, you know?? I don't know. I tried.</p><p>Also, I don't know if that's obvious or not, but Marcos's section takes place before the events of season one, and Lorna's takes place after the events of season 2. Just thought I would add this at the top for the sake of clarification. But thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it xx</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marcos woke to the strangest sensation of drowning. </p><p>His eyes snapped open with a gasp, chest burning from sudden lack of oxygen, and when he strained his hearing passed the ringing in his ears, he heard the startling sound of screaming, children and adults alike, all mutants, all scared. Beside him, Lorna didn’t stir, caught deep in sleep. He wanted to reach out to her, to wake her, but then he heard the sound of bullets, and the bright flashes of them firing from the barrels of guns, the light cutting through the darkness. He could hear John, shouting orders, yelling, screaming, fighting back, and Marcos dreaded the moment he heard silence. </p><p>A young mutant ran past his open doorway, and a bullet went through her back, spraying red across the walls, and she collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood seeping into the room. </p><p>Lorna woke now, clutching onto Marcos and trying to get her bearings past the commotion. There was smoke, he realized, so much smoke. It settled in his lungs like smog, but he held his breath despite it, knowing that any movement, every sound, would give them away, and he tried to keep them hidden for as long as he could, though he knew, deep down, that the effort was futile.</p><p>“Marcos,” Lorna whispered, clutching him tightly, and she sounded so afraid, so terrified, that he could hardly stand it. He wanted to hold her to his chest and never let her go. “They found us. Sentinel Services. They’re here.”</p><p>He couldn’t bring himself to voice those words, couldn’t stir the air in his chest to reply. All he could do was hold Lorna tight and watch the bedroom door with an eagles gaze. Somewhere, Sonya screamed. The screaming of the children mingled and twisted with the blasting of the bullets through bodies and walls, and the cacophony grew and grew until Marcos almost couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to go. He needed to get out of bed and help these mutants, help John get everyone to safety, help hold off the agents with the weapons and a vendetta. Because Marcos would burn them to ciders before he let them lay one more hand on another mutant.</p><p>“Lorna,” he shook her, but she didn’t move from his side, frozen in fear. “We have to go. We have to help them. We need-”</p><p>He didn’t get to finish the sentence, because before he could blink, an innumerable amount of Sentinel Service agents charged into their bedroom with bulletproof vests and riot masks and guns pointed at their chest. Marcos raised his hands, being stranded on the streets of Bogotá, he knew what that usually meant, mutant or not. Lorna didn’t move, and without a word, without warning, an officer fired a bullet right into her skull, and Marcos could feel the warm stickiness of her blood against his skin, and then she was gone, slipping off him and falling limp against the bed.</p><p>Before he even realized what was happening, Marcos was screaming, and from his hands pored forth fervid flames that made the soldier’s skin crackle and burn and their uniforms melt to their bodies and their weapons drip into useless pools of heated metal on the ground. The pitch-dark room was ablaze was the vivid light that spewed from his fingers as he melted their flesh to their bones and sequentially turned their bones to ash, leaving them screaming, screaming almost as loud as he was screaming, screaming until his throat was hoarse, blinking through the tears in his eyes, and all Marcos could think was <em>burn them, burn them, burn them all, kill them all… </em></p><p>And for the first time since he was thirteen, he was more than happy to follow through with that sensation.</p><p>Suddenly, all of that fell away, and Marcos opened his eyes to a dark room, his head on his pillow, the blankets over his lap, and pressure, a force, bearing down on his chest. “Marcos! Marcos, wake up! <em> Marcos</em>!”</p><p>Blinking, Marcos reached up to grab at Lorna’s hands as they gripped at his chest, and she paused when he tightened his hold. He felt her relax against him, and slowly slip off his torso. “Lorna, babe... what…”</p><p>“You scared the shit out of me,” she hissed, and Marcos could see the fear in her eyes, even in the dark. He rose one hand to his side and softly lit his palm up to illuminate the room. “You were having a nightmare. Oh my <em>god</em>, Marcos. I thought…”</p><p>Gulping, Marcos looked around the room, still breathing hard. From the light within his palm, he could see that the walls were scorched and charred, ruined beyond repair. The cabinet in which he and Lorna held their clothes and nick-nacks was sliced right through the middle on a diagonal slant, the top half crumpled on the ground beside it. There were deep gashes in the ground and the ceiling, so deep that at some parts you could actually see through to the outside. A metal beam was reduced to a steaming, melting pile of goop. Lorna had singe marks on her skin, and the wrist on her left hand was burned so badly it was pink. “Lorna, I burned you,” he hissed, sitting up, and Lorna rolled onto her back and rested the back of her other hand over her forehead. “Fuck, <em> fuck. </em>I’m sorry babe.”</p><p>“Marcos,” Lorna said lightly, and he suspected that if the situation wasn’t so serious, she would be openly laughing at him. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Lorna, I burnt you,” Marcos repeated, horrified, as he cradled her burnt arm in his hands. The skin was ugly and burnt, and he felt sick just looking at it. </p><p>Lorna just raised her eyebrows at him. “You think I care about a little burn? Marcos, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. A burn once in a blue moon isn’t anything to worry about. What were you dreaming about? I was really worried.”</p><p>“Sentinel,” Marcos mumbled, and he glanced around slowly as he lowered himself back down to the pillows. There was no pool of blood in the doorway. Lorna did not have a bullet through her head. There was no tear gas, or screaming mutants, or soldiers dressed in riot gear. “Sentinel Services, Lorna, they were <em> here</em>, they <em> killed </em>you-”</p><p>“Hey,” Lorna silenced him by throwing her legs over his lap again and rested her weight on his chest, her head on his shoulder. “Enough of that now. It was a nightmare, Marcos, nothing more. We’re safe. I’m safe. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“I burnt you, Lorna,” he repeated, still disgusted with himself for it, still disbelieving. “And I was going to burn them, too. I wanted to burn them. To make them suffer. To-</p><p>“Marcos,” Lorna cut him off again, sharper this time, and he knew better than to continue. That look on her face... well, he knew from experience what that look meant. “You’ve burned me before, babe. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. Things happen. It was an accident. It’ll heal, and we’ll forget about it. I don’t <em> care</em>.”</p><p>“It’s going to scar.”</p><p>“I like scars.”</p><p>Sighing, Marcos shut his eyes tight enough to sting. He knew that there was no negotiating this argument. “I don’t know how you can put up with it, honestly.”</p><p>“Because you put up with me,” Lorna replied easily. “And because I love you.”</p><p>There was a sound like brick shattering, and they glanced up to see John in the doorway, half the wall demolished and scattered across the room. He looked wild, his hair unkempt, wearing nothing but a pair of tracksuit pants and his dog tags around his neck. When he realized there wasn’t any danger, he relaxed but looked confused. “What the hell happened here? I thought you were being attacked. I heard screaming. Is everyone alright?”</p><p>“Nightmare,” Lorna replied. John sighed sympathetically. He understood. They all understood. Nightmares were a common occurrence in the Underground. Every mutant under their care had some sort of trauma buried deep down. “We’re alright here, though. Thanks, John.”</p><p>“Sorry for waking you,” Marcos muttered, but John heard him, despite how quiet he was being. </p><p>John shook his head. “Don’t be stupid. I’m just glad that you’re alright. But next time, maybe cut it out with the light show and just do the normal thing and scream, huh? You scared the crap out of the kids. <em>And</em> me,” he added as an afterthought as he glanced around the room- what was left of it anyway- and frowned. “Uh, we’re going to have to move you. You can’t live here.”</p><p>“In the morning,” Lorna said. “But thanks again, John.”</p><p>“No worries,” John replied before he turned on his heel and left them be.</p><p>Lorna sighed and rested back down on Marcos’s chest. She could hear his heartbeat through his skin, still fast and erratic from his nightmare and sudden wake-up, but still as familiar to her as her own face in the mirror. He reached down and threaded his fingers in her hair. “What am I going to do with you?”</p><p>Marcos laughed, and the movement rocked through her, the vibrations making the back of her throat tingle. “I have no idea.” </p><p>She rolled over and kissed him, and sleeping was the farthest thing from their mind for the remainder of the night.</p>
<hr/><p>All Lorna could think about, could feel, was the heavy metal band wrapped securely, immovably around her neck, so tight that she couldn’t even slip her fingers between it and her skin, and any attempts to pull at it only resulted in red marks and bruises in the pattern of a band around her neck.</p><p>Her baby. She had to get back to her baby, to Dawn, who she missed with all her heart. It felt like a piece of her soul was missing. She needed to get back to her baby, and she wasn’t going to let a measly collar and a cage stop her from doing that.</p><p>She had done it once before, collar or no collar, and she would do it again. It was easier the second time, now that she knew she could do it, and she screamed until there was no longer air in her lungs, and then she screamed some more. Blood poured from her mouth and nose, and her vision began to blur as alarms went off in the distance and the collar around her neck emitted pain so strong it nearly took her legs out from under her.</p><p>But she could hear her baby screaming, somewhere, somewhere in the compound, and no amount of mutant dampening collars or cages were going to stop her, and as the bars bent under her will and the collar crumbled to a useless piece of scrap metal on the ground, still beeping faintly, she knew that she would desecrate this entire building before she let anything happen to her baby.</p><p>Dawn was crying.</p><p>She felt strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight, shouting in her ears, and she woke up just in time to watch Dawn’s cradle collapse inwards like a ball of tinfoil. “Lorna!” She heard Marcos scream. “Lorna!”</p><p>But she couldn’t really hear him. All she could focus on was the remains of her baby’s cot, discarded on the ground like a broken toy, ruined beyond compare, and all at once, it felt like her world was coming to a stop. "Marcos," she whispered and her voice sounded empty even to herself. Marcos tightened his hold on her. "Marcos, where's the baby? Where's Dawn?"</p><p>"Lorna-"</p><p>"<em>Where's Dawn?" </em></p><p>Lorna could feel it coming like a storm, settling over her bones like a blanket, a familiar ache, hills and valleys, a familiar rise and fall. She knew it, and she was keenly aware that Marcos knew it too, which was probably why he tightened his hold around her, smoothed her hair down, spoke softly and soothingly, resting his chin on the crown of her head. It was a familiar system for them now, after all these years. </p><p>"She's with Andy," Marcos said, and it was like a slap to the face. "She's with Andy, Lorna. He had her tonight. You let him babysit her, and she's been in the Struckers apartment all day. She wasn't in her cradle. She's safe, see?"</p><p>She looked to where he turned her, and she could indeed see Andy and Lauren standing at the threshold, Andy holding a screaming Dawn to his chest, Lauren with her hands up as a shield protected them from shrapnel. Pieces of metal of all different sizes and make littered the ground at their feet. The room was decimated, with things thrown about and crushed and crumbled and unrecognizable.</p><p>"Andy," Lorna held out her arm. "Give her to me. Please, give her to me," When Andy didn't move Lorna felt her heart fall into her toes, and the metal around the room began to tremble and rattle. Lauren put the shield back up when the objects at their feet started to float. "Andy, don't you trust me?"</p><p>"It's not that I don't trust you…" Andy said slowly, holding Dawn tightly to his chest. He was looking squarely at Marcos as he took a small step forward. "It's just that… I have no idea what's going on, and…"</p><p>Lorna understood. She knew what was happening, so did Marcos, and so would John, if he were here. Andy had only heard about her disorder, about her episodes, and she wouldn’t expect him to trust her either. But it still hurt. Thankfully, Marcos came to her rescue. “It’s alright, Andy. I’ll take her.”</p><p>At Andy’s silent insistence, Lauren dropped the shield and lowered her hands to her sides, and he climbed over the now still pile of metal to hand Marcos the tiny bundle in his arms, still screaming. When he glanced at Lorna, she had expected to see fear in his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see kindness. Concern, yes. Trepidation, sure. But thankfully, no fear. Lorna loved him for that.</p><p>When Dawn was close enough for Lorna to see her face, to touch her skin, to feel her warmth- a trait she inherited from her father- it was like the clock started again, and time seemed to move with rapid speed. Marcos didn’t hand her over, not yet, but just being close and seeing her, was enough. For now. “Oh Dawn,” Lorna sobbed. She felt like she had run face-first into a brick wall. “Hey, baby girl.”</p><p>Andy and Lauren snuck out of the room as quietly as mice while she was distracted, and then it was just Lorna and Marcos and baby Dawn, and Lorna felt a restlessness in her bones, and Marcos sighed against her, and Dawn’s tiny hand was warm and alive beneath her fingers. “They put me in a collar,” Lorna whispered. “They put me in a <em> collar</em>, Marcos, and stuck me in a cage. I thought that I was going to die in there. Alone.”</p><p>“Well, you’re not in any cage, and you’re not in any collar.” Marcos pulled her against his side and placed Dawn between them, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. “Lorna, I haven’t wanted to mention it, but… you haven’t been sleeping lately. You’ve been… erratic. You’ve told me that you’ve been feeling fantastic but you’ve been acting a little worrying. I didn’t want to say anything. Do you think you’re having another episode?”</p><p>Lorna didn’t want to admit it, but she knew that he was right. “I think so. The first one in a long time, since before the Underground really started. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t… I don’t want to think about being that person again.”</p><p>“Do you think,” Marcos’s voice was tentative and quiet, and though Lorna loathed that she did that to him, she appreciated his effort. “I should ask John to put some medication on the list for our next supply run?”</p><p>Shaking her head, Lorna snuggled further into his side, her head on his chest, and brought Dawn closer to her. She had stopped crying now and made soft cooing noises in her bundle of blankets. Andy had done a good job in wrapping her up, and she was glad that she had taught Andy and Esme how to do it while she had the chance. “You know it’ll do no good. Medications don’t have any effect on me. It just makes me worse, if anything. But thanks for thinking of me," she rubbed at her face. She hadn't even realized that she was crying, but Marcos had the good grace and common sense not to mention it. "Did I hurt anyone?"</p><p>"Only yourself," Marcos replied, indicating the blood on her pyjamas and on her side of the blankets, splatters on Marcos's arm. She hadn't even noticed it. There were many reasons why that could be, but none of them was worth worrying about right now. "You should go next door to Caitlin's to have that looked at.  Or at least go to the bathroom to wrap it and wash it and make sure there's no metal inside, you know."</p><p>"I know," Lorna replied. She made no move to get up. "In a minute. I don't feel like leaving yet."</p><p>When Marcos sighed, exhausted but not exasperated, she felt his breath ghost across her neck. “You worry me, you know. Screaming like that. The whole place was destroyed- we’re going to need to remodel again.” </p><p>“This place needed a renovation anyway,” She muttered and was pleased when he huffed out a laugh. “I’m sorry that I scare you so much. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”</p><p>“But I like to worry about you,” Marcos said. “You’re the love of my life. Worrying about you is my favourite pass time.”</p><p>She didn’t know what to say to that. Dawn looked so peaceful, and Lorna reached her hand out to run her fingers down her soft, quivering cheeks. She searched the room for the right piece of metal, and when she found it, tingling at her fingers like sticking a fork in a wall socket, calling to her, she flicked her wrist and brought Dawn’s rattle, the one Marcos made her what felt like a lifetime ago, and placed it in her tiny grip. “They put me in a collar, Marcos,” she whispered again as she flicked her fingers.</p><p>“Hey,” Marcos tilted her head upwards so Lorna had no choice but to look at him. Not like she was going to object. She was always grateful to have an excuse to look into Marcos’s eyes. “Where are you right now, Lorna?”</p><p>“In the apartments, with you,” she replied, and she watched Marcos’s face soften, like melting clay. “John is in the apartment next door, probably listening to everything going on through the walls, and the Struckers are in the room after that. We’re in bed, you and me, with our baby between us. And I’m happy, and I’m safe, and there’s no place I’d rather be.”</p><p>Marcos bent his neck to kiss her, soft and tender and full of love, everything that Lorna wanted, needed, and much more, and when he pulled away, reluctant and breathless, his eyes held the warmth of a dying star. “No place I’d rather be,” he repeated, and she knew, right then, without a doubt in the world, that they were going to be alright for once.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guys, I just... I love writing the Gifted. So damn much. I really do. I miss it. I never got a chance to watch it an already it's been taken from me. I just... love it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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